Out With A Bang
by julesgriffith
Summary: This "re-examination" didn't begin with declarations of "I love you" or intertwined fingers.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Out With a Bang**

**By: Jules**

**A/N: Like most fans, I don't think the exploration of House and Cuddy is over by a long shot.**

**(1/10)**

**Synopsis: Aftermath of the House and Cuddy break-up. Their exploration continued and deepened. Takes place after the worst of it. Set in a couple of weeks or months, your choice, dear Reader.**

**Disclaimer: House isn't mine.**

**Rating: T**

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The constant ache had lessened to a dull, hollow one after it was all said and done. House had been on a tear, and his warpath to self-destruction, consisting of booze, assorted drugs, and unfeeling sex, had eased, but only in the sense that he was actually cognizant of his actions and surroundings now, which wasn't necessarily a _good_ thing since all that remained was a shell of a broken heart.

Cuddy, witnessing more than she wanted to, had turned her own despair into a fistful of guilt. She knew it was her fault. She had been stupid and in love and hadn't given a damn about common sense, which had inevitably led them here, to this delightful train wreck of a break-up.

But the most annoying part of time passing was the ruins of the good stuff, left behind like an unsuccessful heist, with smatterings of tenderness, bursts of laughter, and that sad, homeless love stretching the distance between them, begging to be re-examined.

This "re-examination" didn't begin with declarations of "I love you" or intertwined fingers.

When she came to his office on a gray Friday afternoon, she had expected to be greeted by a strong dose coldness and sarcasm. But he had looked in her eyes and smiled like she hadn't destroyed his life, and before she could find her protective, straight-and-narrow armor, she was in his lap, straddling and grinding against him with a starved amount of desperation.

They found skin quickly and moved inside each other with swift abandon. They groaned as he filled her—it was an instant relief.

Whoever said break-up sex was way hotter than regular, "together" sex wasn't lying. Everything was hotter, more focused since they already knew they had surpassed their expiration date.

The loving, tender man she had been with for the majority of the year was gone. It was like making love to his shadow; the same mouth and hands touched her, but it was with a cool distance that taunted her to take him further, deeper inside of her until he felt _something_.

There was nothing else left for her to break. He enjoyed her and the familiarity. He got off on her obvious guilt and desire. But there wasn't anything, anything left to give her.

When it was over, they stayed in each other's arms, quiet and warm and somewhere totally new.

House nudged her, making her lift her face until she met his eyes. "I don't want you back."

Cuddy looked out the window and bit her lip. "I wasn't coming back."

House pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. He nodded quickly, ignoring the sting of her words. He was ready to turn her down, kick her out, and cut her out of his life, just as he had done with Stacy.

But Cuddy would never be Stacy. She was a permanent fixture in his life, whether he wanted it or not.

House rolled his eyes and lifted her away from his body. He limped across the office towards the balcony. "You need _more_. Whatever _that_ is. But here you are again. Either you're a guilt ridden masochist who just needs one more hit of your favorite _drug_ or the stupidest, most selfish bitch alive."

Cuddy curled her fingers around the edge of his desk. She probably would have been offended if he hadn't been so dead on the mark. This was pathetic—she knew she couldn't have it both ways. She knew it wasn't going anywhere.

House was House.

And yet, here she was again, ignoring everything she knew. She was becoming a fast expert in denial.

She met his eyes again. "I miss you."

House attempted to laugh, but it just came out as an exhalation. "Looks like you've got a problem."

Cuddy straightened her skirt and righted her shirt. She smiled tensely. "I'll go. I'm sorry."

House watched her turn. It was easy to let people go. He had done it all his life. But with her…."Hey, Cuddy."

"Yeah?" She turned, surprised.

"I'll see you tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

**Out With A Bang**

**By Jules**

**(2/10)**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!  
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Getting Vicodin wasn't easy. Not only had it been illegalized in the States, but there was absolutely no one at PPTH or any other hospital in the tri-state area that would write House a 'script.

There was no hiding an addiction when you had to resort to a drug dealer named Steve-K from Jersey City.

House twirled the orange container like a baton. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever would change. That didn't mean that life couldn't suck more.

But Lisa Cuddy was back, and he didn't have the willpower to turn her away.

She looked at his choice candy, her face paling with disgust. She shouldn't have left him that night, she realized now. The relapse wouldn't have been as bad. Hell, she wouldn't be relapsing now if it wasn't for those mind numbing pills.

House smirked and tossed the pills in the air. "Not so sexy today, huh?"

Cuddy leaned against the glass door. "I hate what they do to you."

"That's right. Life would be so much better if I felt every asinine thing you feel."

She put her hand on his wrist gently. "Don't take them tonight."

God, he hated her. Here she was, his ex-girlfriend, making demands, telling him what she wanted, like what she wanted mattered anymore. He slid his hand down her side. "Or what?"

She didn't flinch. "Or I'll leave."

He grinned, his smile not reaching his eyes. "You already left. What's the point, Cuddy?"

She touched his cheek, a familiar, angelic gesture. "You're better than this."

House gritted his teeth, immediately brought back to the night he begged her, the night he swore he could do it all for her. "I thought I couldn't do any better."

She curled her arm around his neck. "Don't take them," she whispered.

Then he was kissing her, because it was either that or drown her out with pills and bourbon. Drowning her with kisses seemed the better option, for now.

It was like a fighting a losing battle, no victor in sight. He pulled her back from the door, dragging her across the room until he hit his desk. But that didn't feel right either. He wanted to be on top of her, dominating her until she broke down and screamed with guilt and sorrow. Manipulating her feelings was the easiest way not to examine his own.

He pushed her down on the chaise, inching her skirt up until he saw the hem of her pantyhose. Yes, drown he would, as he buried his face in dark, scented curls. She always tasted so sweet, so innocent and trusting. The way she bucked against him, always wanting more than what he had both frustrated and empowered him.

As the warmth steadily rose inside of her, she felt herself hit a wall of emotion that couldn't be stopped. She never wanted to cry in front of him. She never wanted to be so weak and pathetic. But as she tumbled over the edge, she cried, her sobs mourning his loss even as he filled her completely.

He lifted his head, unable to stand the sounds of her grief. He ordered gruffly, "Turn around."

It was only then that he could go on, not facing her, not seeing her anger and despair as he moved inside her relentlessly.

She turned her head, searching for his mouth with her own. He was being stubborn, selfish and wouldn't give her what she wanted, wouldn't open his eyes.

She grabbed his wild hair and pulled his head to her, forcing him to kiss her.

It was too much as her mouth cried into his. He came hard, fast, and then the damning ache was gone.

Quickly, he removed himself from her. He looked away, frustrated, hating that the drugs couldn't stop him from wanting her. He reached for the discarded pills. "You're a poor substitute, Cuddy."

She watched as he poured two pills into his hand. She grimaced, her tears fading as she saw him retreat. She stood up with as much dignity as she could muster, righting her clothes. "I don't substitute anything."

She walked out the door.

House stared at the pills as they began to melt in his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Out With A Bang**

**By Jules**

**(3/10)**

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Surprisingly, I enjoyed tonight's episode of House. I guess I am a total masochist, but I just have a feeling that House and Cuddy are endgame. We shall see!  
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"Where were you?"

House tossed the red and white ball in the air, not looking at her in the glass doorway. "I've been playing in my office all day, mommy."

"I meant last night."

He caught the ball and tossed it over his head. "Out."

"Where?" She snatched the ball, holding it hostage.

"You don't get to know," he said simply.

She sat down on the chaise and placed her hand on the other side of his thigh. "Tell me."

House smirked, narrowing his eyes at her knowingly. "You don't _really_ want to know. You just care that I wasn't here waiting for you for one more gratuitous break-up fuck. This isn't the beginning, no matter how much you want it to be. What's done is done."

"I don't know why I even bother." She began to get up, but he grabbed her wrist, making her lose her balance over him. He kissed her hard, selfishly, and caged his body against her.

"You love me. I love you. It's pathetic, really." He met her eyes, seeing all of the lost hope and dreams she had for them flashing across her face, only a possible reality because she wanted it so keenly. "Let's get out of here."

"There's no where to go."

"Who said there had to be a destination? Come on." He took her hand and pulled her out of the office, wordlessly making their way to the elevator.

They didn't speak as she slid her arms around his body. He cranked the ignition and sped out of the parking lot. He took them to the freeway, driving for miles until he flicked his right signal and made an exit toward the shore.

The wind and waves chilled the air, the last of the Jersey winter making it too cold for them not to cling to each other. They sat in the sand and watched the black waves. She leaned into him, her head dropping to his chest.

"I think I would have married you, you know. Just cause you asked me. Not because I think it's a good idea or want to be married. But if you asked, I would have done it."

She slid her fingers in between the buttons of his shirt. "You're such a liar, House."

"I know. But it's fun to torture you. All of those idiotic what-ifs that you want."

"I know your secret."

"I highly doubt it."

"You want it all. Why else would you pick someone like me?"

"Because I want a humble partner in life."

She snorted, inhaling his musky, unique scent. "I can't imagine my life without you, you know?"

"I can. You don't really know what hell is." He tilted her chin. "I do."

"Shh. No more talking." She touched the side of his cheek soothingly, letting her hands travel back and forth across his body. His reaction was immediate and acute, and he let his mind get lost in the feel of her one more time. Just one more time he'd be with her. Eventually, she'd tire of this nothing relationship; she'd quit coming to him because she'd lose faith and hope in this endless continuum of lustful dissatisfaction with nothing solid to sustain them. One more time he'd take her, slowly at first, but then deeper, harder until the sand cut through their clothes, making their skin a grainy dissolve of impermanence. Just one more time he'd pretend like they had a tomorrow—that he was meant to be something more than a lonely, misanthropic genius.

When they made love, she could pretend that he loved her enough to catch her, to be there for her like a normal boyfriend. But nothing about him was normal or common. She thought she wanted that; she thought she could handle the constant uncertainly because she loved him enough.

Mostly though, in her secret heart, she didn't want to wake up in the morning and find herself alone while he was still lying there next to her.

And nothing made sense anymore. Only the feel of him, this moment, and the fleeting thought that this would be the final time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Out With A Bang**

**By Jules**

**(4/10)**

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I'm trying to figure out where this is going, if anywhere. House and Cuddy are tricky. :)**

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"Hi." She bit her lip nervously. Last night had been a beautiful, bittersweet dream, and now she didn't have a clue what to do. But she was here.

House looked at her in his doorway, teetering between coming in and staying out. Whenever he thought about her lately, this is how he pictured her. Not quite in, not quite out. He stepped back, making a path for her. "Come in."

Cuddy took in his apartment. Everything was the same as before. So many things had happened, both good and bad inside these walls. "Didn't think I'd ever come back here," she admitted.

"Oh, _please_. You always get off on stalking the crime scene." He eyed her and crossed the room. Something had changed on the beach. He knew she felt it too.

She stood in place, watching him watching her. "What are we doing?" She finally asked.

House sighed. He knew this was coming. "_Not_ having a relationship. _Not_ pretending we're The Cleavers. A lot of _nothing_."

She finally moved towards him, closing the distance he had created. "This….this could be something."

House shook his head. "I _knew_ you couldn't handle it. Always got to have something more than what's possible."

Cuddy's chest tightened. She had tried. She thought she could go down this uncharted road with him, but in the end, she came back to the same conclusion: "I just want you to be here."

He pulled gently on one of her dark curls. "What's the point? I know you. You'll try to convince yourself that you can handle this, handle me. But you don't see me, Cuddy."

She groaned inwardly. She felt like strangling him. Her hands shook as she pleaded quietly, "You have to let me, House. You _have to_."

It would be easy to lie to her. To tell her what she wanted. But he couldn't do that. Not again. "I can't."

She grabbed his face, stepping fully into his space. "You have to. You…." They stammered backwards, his footing faltering as she followed him, kicking something hard and solid. She looked down at the culprit. "What's this?"

"A suitcase."

"House."

"Thought I'd take a little trip."

She let him go, the air suddenly thick and unbreathable. "How long?"

"Long enough. Foreman already knows," he explained quietly.

She looked back to the suitcase, then back to him, unable to compute the reality of the situation. "You weren't going to tell me."

"You need time, Cuddy. You don't_ really_ want this. You want a future."

"You don't have to leave because of me."

"I want to give you more. This is the only way I can do it."

Blood rose in her cheeks and she laughed. "That's the most convoluted, screwed up thing I've ever heard. You think by leaving I'll forget about you? Move on with someone else? It won't work. I don't want more with some nice guy. I want more _with you_."

She threw her arms around his neck, locking him in a death grip.

"Cuddy…." House tried to pry her away, but that only made her hold him tighter. "Cuddy…._Let go_."

"No. I won't let you leave._ I won't_." She kissed his prickly neck relentlessly in bursts of unrestrained love. She loosened her hold briefly so she could stand on her tiptoes and meet his stubborn lips.

"_Cuddy_…." House groaned, refusing to kiss her back. But her mouth was fastened to his, and she was kissing him in that way that made him feel like he belonged to her. He didn't want to give in. He actually wanted to do the right thing, but his body was completely unfaithful to his good intentions. He wanted her more than her happiness, more than his sanity.

When he finally gave in, he took control, pushing her down on the couch until he was fully on top of her. This part, this connection, was so good and easy. He had been wrong earlier—she did see him. She just didn't see herself or what she wanted. He didn't want to fail her again, but as he moved inside of her, he knew it was inevitable.

Afterwards, she fell asleep in his arms.

When she woke, hours later, she was alone. And the suitcase was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Out With A Bang**

**By Jules**

**(5/10)**

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! This chapter is a bit of a departure from the format I started, but I think it's necessary. Enjoy!**

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Danville, Kentucky was called "the city of firsts." The _first what_, House thought as he drove past the town's city limit sign. Surely it wasn't the first place a priest committed adultery and produced a bastard son.

Then again, this was House and his screwed up paternity. Anything was possible.

When he left Cuddy that morning, he hadn't intended to wind up in his father's hometown. He just wanted to get away and divorce himself from the road to nowhere they couldn't seem to escape.

It was already dark, but the lights of the Catholic Church sparkled through the stain glass. The building itself was similar in structure to the Princeton campus. Gothic. Old. There were stories of love and labor and doubt in its bricks and mortar. The tower reminded him of Mayfield. Funny. Every point in his life was associated with some kind of building.

He turned off the ignition and stared at his father's home, well, as close to a home as he could find. Upon reading and re-reading his book, the church was only location he had divulged.

The lights suddenly turned off and the front door opened. A tall, older man stepped out and began to lock the door.

House recognized him immediately—it was like looking in a mirror that only showed the future. The only significant differences were his well-shaven skin and perfectly tamed hair. But his eyes, his eyes were definitely the same.

"Hello," House said loudly.

The man startled but collected himself quickly. "Can I help you, son?"

House searched the air for something to say now that he was here, finally confronting the man he had always wondered and obsessed about. He should have scripted it, thought this through. Gone to Miami instead. "No. I'm good."

House awkwardly turned to leave. He was an idiot for coming here.

His father peered after him, his gut telling him to stop this troubled man. "I was just leaving but don't mind staying if you'd like to go inside," he called after him.

House stopped. "I don't believe in God."

The old man smiled. "You think that excludes you from His House?"

House rolled his eyes. "Would you want someone in your house you didn't believe in?"

"Those who seek the Lord lack no good thing. You're here. That's all that matters right now." He held the door open. "Come in."

House followed him inside. He had aged well—the man he remembered from his childhood was still present beneath the age lines and frosty white hair. He led House halfway down the isle and stopped.

"Sit."

"I thought confessionals took place in those porta potty rooms."

He grinned, amused. "They're out of order for this one."

"Figures." House plopped down next to his father, unabashedly staring at him. He felt all of ten years old.

He waited patiently, recognizing that the man needed to be here, despite his uncouth exterior. "What brings you to Danville, son?"

"I need to change."

He hadn't expected that. This man seemed dogmatically set in his ways. "For yourself or for someone else?"

House's mouth twitched. "Her name's Cuddy."

His father nodded. "A love."

House shrugged. "Something like that."

"Did she ask you to change?"

"Yes. No. She wants me to "be" with her."

He laughed good-naturedly. "She wouldn't be the first woman to demand presence and attentiveness. What's holding you back?"

"I don't want to feel pain."

"Do you want to feel joy?"

"_Of course_."

"They go hand in hand."

House rolled his eyes. "What _crap_."

"You say you don't believe in God. He isn't going to be there if you don't have faith. Likewise, love can't exist without a willingness to lose it. Without an open heart, you'll never feel anything. Good or bad. If she's worth it, you do whatever it takes to keep her. I fell in love once. But I also made a choice and never regretted it."

"Of course you can't regret something if you _don't know _what you lost." House rubbed his leg, feeling suddenly agitated with the old man.

"Like I said, I made a choice. Change is an action. It can't define you," he responded calmly.

"I read your book," House said abruptly.

"Oh?"

House leaned forward, invading his father's space. "You don't have _a clue_."

The color dropped out of his face once House came into focus. He had always wondered if it was true. But Blythe had vehemently denied it, and he had chosen to believe her.

House got up to leave.

"I would have been a good father to you, Gregory," he said simply.

"Intentions mean nothing. Absence doesn't give you the right to anything."

His father nodded. "Son. If you love her, show her. Otherwise, move on and don't look back."


	6. Chapter 6

**Out With A Bang**

**By Jules**

**(6/10)**

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!**

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Hello?" Cuddy crossed her arms and cradled the phone against her shoulder. She had just put Rachel down again after a nightmare. She hoped to God the ringing wouldn't wake her up. The line was silent. "Hello?"

"Hey," he exhaled and finally spoke.

"House?" Cuddy sat down in the middle of her living room floor.

"The one and only."

Cuddy's heart was pounding; she didn't want him to know how worried she had been or how relieved she was now. She attempted to steady her voice. "Where are you?"

"In my father's guest room." House looked around the simple blue and beige room.

That wasn't what she expected to here. She had been totally convinced that he had gone on another Vicodin-booze-hooker bender. "…really?"

"Miss me?"

Even as she smiled, she rolled her eyes. "It hasn't even been a full 24 hours yet."

"Hmm… Bad answer to a sensitive and probing question."

"I'll start to miss you when you tell me you aren't coming back," she offered.

"I'm not coming back. How's it feel?"

Cuddy brought her knees up to her chest, holding back her thoughts. "What made you go look for your father?"

House fell back on the bed. "I can't get a break with you. But if you _must know_, Queen of Deflection, I wanted to meet the guy who made me."

"What's he like?"

House sighed. He still didn't know what he thought of the man. "Nothing like me. I guess there's some credence to that nature verses nuture thing. But then there's the whole sin in conception thing _too, _so..."

Cuddy frowned. "You think your existence is some kind of karma?"

"As Lady Gaga would say: Baby, I was born this way."

"I think that's a load of _crap_."

House grinned. "I thought you'd say as much."

Cuddy shook her head. "You'll find any excuse not to be happy—"

"Hey, Cuddy," House interrupted her before she could get started.

"What?" She snapped.

"I'm coming back."

Cuddy closed her eyes. "House."

"What?" He said softly.

"I miss you."

House held the phone closer, listening to the sound of her breathing. After a few moments, he said, "I'll call you tomorrow."

"House."

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she said without any pretense or expectation.

"Yeah?" House smiled, thinking the same.

"Yeah."

"Night, Cuddy."

"Goodnight, House." When she hung up, House held on to the phone. It was the first time since it ended that he had dared to hope. Finally, he got up and stuck his head into hallway. His father was reading the paper at his modest dining room table.

"I take it you called her?" He didn't look up.

"How'd you know?" House asked his father's back.

He turned around and looked at his son knowingly. "You're trying your damnedest not to smile."

House immediately dropped it and began to nose around the living room, picking up and putting down pictures and trinkets. House lifted a black and white picture that was clearly his father with his own father. He looked happy, loved, and protected. House frowned at him. "You're really okay with this?" He gestured back to the guest room.

"I invited you, didn't I? I'd like to get to know you, son."

House screwed his face, feeling defensive and awkward. "Bonding with the long lost biological father is a little too Oprah for me."

"Then sit down, shut up, take the obituary page and be anti-social." He held out the paper. "I don't care whether you talk to me or not. You still have a bed to sleep in tonight."

Housed nodded, considering. He ignored the offered paper and sat down across from his father. "What happened between you and my mother?" He asked tentatively.

His father put the paper down slowly. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I've known your mother since elementary school. I always held a great…esteem for her, I suppose you could say. But, we grew up, she married and I went into the priesthood. I never thought I'd see her again. Then, a few years later, she returned and started going to my church. She told me all about Peru and Singapore with such flair and excitement. It was a life so different from my own. I never realized we were both so lonely. I fell in love with her. We would have long talks about everything, nothing. It was….lovely."

House thought about his parents relationship—formal, stilted, unaffectionate—it had been nothing like what his father described. "But you still chose God over her."

"It happened so fast. One day she was here, the next day she was gone again. I suppose I could have fought for her—I just never had the chance. I take it you traveled a lot as a child?"

House nodded, his face paling.

"Was John a good father to you?"

"He hated me," House said bluntly.

His father worried his lips. "I'm sorry to hear that."

House shrugged, not wanting to talk about his past. "He's dead. It's over."

"But you carry the scars with you. It makes it difficult to love when you don't naturally trust people."

House stood up, gripping his leg as he moved towards the screen window. Talking to his father like this struck a cord of anger within him. So much advice and wisdom, but what good was it? He didn't need to hear this now. It wouldn't make a difference. He tried to swallow it, stay focused. Not keep playing the "what if I had a normal, loving father" game in his mind.

"I've known Cuddy almost half of my life. Before, during, and after…. I guess we're back somewhere close to the beginning now."

"Familiarity and trust are two different things. Do you trust her?"

"With my life. It's me she can't trust. I was clean for almost 2 years."

"Was that difficult?" His father said without judgement.

"Sometimes. Other times I forgot about the pain because she was there."

"Happiness can do that."

"Things just got…too real. I was scared to lose her. Scared of what that might feel like."

"But you lost her anyway."

"Not completely."

"I doubt you ever will. You both need to figure out what works for you. Maybe you aren't meant to be a couple in any traditional sense. That doesn't mean you can't love her and be there for each other."

House nodded. Traditional was something they definitely didn't do well. "I don't want to live without her, but I'm not sure she can stand living with me."

He got up and gripped House's shoulder. "You can't make someone choose you. But you can give her the choice. I have faith in you, son. Nothing is hopeless. Good night, son."


	7. Chapter 7

**Out With A Bang**

**By Jules**

**(7/10)**

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Enjoy.**

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"How'd you sleep, son?" His father asked, pulling out a chair for House.

House shuffled in, his hair flying out in every direction. "Considering the guest bed is about as soft as a brick, not bad."

His father grinned ruefully and poured House a cup of coffee. "An uncomfortable bed is the trick to keeping a house guest's stay to a minimum."

"Tell me how you really feel." House took a swig of coffee.

"I'll get you more pillows for tonight." He nodded once. House didn't say anything; he hadn't expected to stay. "There're a few parishioners I must visit today. You're welcome to come along."

House pinched his face. "And watch you hold hands and sing kumbaya? No thanks."

"Your lack of interest in other people can't go well with your chosen profession." He picked up House's unfinished cup of coffee and tossed the remainder in the sink. "I did a little research after you went to bed. You lead quite an interesting life, Dr. House."

House scoffed, "You googled me?"

He lowered his glasses and eyed House indignantly. "I'm old, not incapable. Come on. Go get dressed. We haven't much time."

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The phone rang four times before her sister picked up. "Hey Jules. I need you to do me a favor."

"What?"

Cuddy took a deep breath. "Can Rachel stay with you for a few days?"

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House stood in the doorway and watched his father approach the invalid young woman. He took her hand and probed her face with kindness. "How are you doing today, Mary?"

The girl didn't move. Her nurse said quietly, "I'm afraid not much has changed, Father."

He nodded and gripped the young woman's hand. "That's alright. I'll just sit with her for a few minutes."

"What's wrong with her?" House spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of him. He stepped out of the doorway.

"She suffered a stroke. Hasn't spoken since," his father explained.

"Let me see." House went to the other side of the bed and began to examine the woman. "Her vocal cords are spasming. Probably some form of Aphasia. Is she on any kind of steroid?"

"No, sir," said the nurse.

"Tell her doctor to try an immunosuppressant treatment. It's worth a shot." House shrugged but stopped when he caught his father's eye.

"Worth a shot? I never knew doctoring involved such guesswork."

"It's not a guess if I'm right."

"That, my son, is why God exists."

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Julia walked in on her sister packing furiously. "This is crazy, Lisa. I thought you broke up with him?"

"I did."

Something was off. Julia knew her sister; the break-up had been like ripping a band-aid off, so pragmatic and self-preserving. Cuddy had cried once and then she was back to her normal self. Clearly, something had changed her mind. "I'm worried about you. What do you think you're doing?"

"I can't just sit here and wait for him." Cuddy escaped into the bathroom. She nearly ran into her sister when she came out. "Jeez, Jules!"

Julia didn't move. "You've been waiting for him half your life. I don't think he's going to get here, no matter what you do or how much you believe it."

Cuddy ducked under her sister's arm. "He's making an effort. He's out there with his father, a person he barely knows, trying to figure things out."

Julia crossed her arms. "You really think one trip to his long lost father is going to make things better? That he'll really be able to give you a normal life?"

Cuddy took her sister's hand. "Listen, I love you and love that you care enough about me to worry. But….I don't want normal. It was stupid and naïve to think we could actually work that way. He's never made this kind of effort before, and I don't want to miss out on it just because I was too shut down and stubborn to give him a chance."

"Lisa. Look, I just don't want you to go to all this trouble and wind up disappointed again."

"Jules, he's the love of my life. I can't give up on him. Not yet."

* * *

"You impressed me today, Gregory."

"It's only what I do."

"No, you have a gift. I'm glad you shared it with me." He sat down heavily in his armchair.

House looked at him: calm, reserved, and genuine. He was everything a good father should be, and it pissed House off. He couldn't stop the anger as it boiled deep inside of him. "I didn't think we'd have anything in common. But we do."

"Oh?"

House sat across from him on the ottoman. His leg hurt like hell. "You weren't there for the people who loved you. Needed you."

His father considered him. He leaned forward, taking in his son's impassive demeanor. "The way I see it—you have two choices. You can hold it against me and have nothing to do with me, or you can start having a relationship with me beginning today. We don't look back on the past."

House nodded. It was all so reasonable. It meant he would have to forgive. Forget. But he had been angry and miserable so long, he wasn't sure he could do it. "You don't care about the past. You don't care how I grew up or how I got to be who I am."

His father frowned and spoke honestly, "What could I do?"

House stood up. "You could have stepped up, been a man, and gotten me and my mother out of years of abuse from a man who didn't have a clue how to be a good father or husband," he yelled in rapid succession.

His face paled. "Oh."

_Oh_. All he had to say was _Oh_? He could stay here, scream at him until he felt guilty, but why? He didn't want a relationship with this man. He didn't want a father at all. This was all pointless.

"I think I'm going to head out."

"Gregory." House stopped.

He stood up from his chair unsteadily. "The offer stands. If you want a relationship with me, I'll be here."

* * *

"Hello?"

"Mrs. House?" Bythe House nodded, smiling automatically at the younger woman in front of her.

"Yes, can I…." She stepped forward, suddenly recognizing her son's boss. "….Dr. Cuddy?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Out With A Bang**

**By Jules**

**(8/10)**

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Sorry for the wait-Monday's episode depressed the hell out of me. I have no idea where the show's going, but here's hoping it will lead to some place where House and Cuddy can find themselves and be happy again. **

* * *

"It's been such a long time." Blythe smiled placidly as she led Cuddy into the living room. She hadn't seen Dr. Cuddy in years. She widened her smile, trying to cover up the trepidation she felt with her unexpected visitor. "I hope my son is behaving himself."

Blythe was like a delicate porcelain doll. Cuddy didn't know what to say. It was clear why House had always been both distant and protective of her. "He's….well, he's _House_."

They set down on the sofa; silence pervaded the room. Cuddy wasn't sure what she was getting herself into, but she couldn't stop now.

"How is my son?" Blythe finally broke the silence.

"You haven't spoken to him?" Cuddy asked measuredly, unsure of what the perimeters were.

Blythe looked down and twisted her wedding ring. "Not recently. He's….well, he's _Gregory_."

It struck Cuddy like a hard blow—Blythe didn't have a clue they had been together. Then the gnawing realization hit her: it had been months since House had spoken to or seen his mother. She would have to be the truth bearer tonight.

Cuddy took a deep breath. "I'm in love with your son, Mrs. House."

"Oh!" Blythe audibly gasped, tears filling her eyes instantly. She batted away the unexpected tears, waving her hands in front of her face. "I'm sorry—I don't know what's wrong with me. I'd always hoped… prayed he would find somebody…."

Cuddy grasped Blythe's hands, calming her and making her focus. "I love him. And he loves me. But there are things…. parts of his past he can't let go. I don't want to give up on him, but I don't think I can help him. I think he needs you….and his real father to make peace with it all."

Blythe's face paled and she pulled her hands back from Cuddy. "His real father? He… His father died over two years ago."

Cuddy shook her head slowly, not breaking eye contact with Blythe. "Not John. His real father. He's with him right now."

"….Caleb? But how—" Blythe covered her mouth and closed her eyes.

"I think he's known since he was a young boy," Cuddy said gently.

"Oh." Blythe stood up and walked to the window. "Oh."

Cuddy stood up and followed her. "I want a future with your son, but House doesn't know how to trust, to really open himself up to the people he loves. He's scared of pain, which makes him scared of love. And with all due respect, I think it has a great deal to do with you and how John treated him as a child."

Blythe steely lifted her chin. "I _love_ my son, Dr. Cuddy."

"I'm sure you do. But you didn't protect him when he needed it."

"I did everything I could—" Blythe snapped, horrified and defensive. She loved her son, she _loved_ him—there had been some difficult times, _yes_, but she loved her son—

_Everybody lies, everybody lies_, Cuddy repeated House's favorite phrase to herself. The blatant denial of the abuse, the refusal to look the past in the eye made Cuddy all the more determined to push the truth out in the open. "No. No you didn't. I have a daughter. And I would do whatever it takes to keep her safe. I would never let anyone hurt her. I can look into her eyes and _know _she feels safe and happy. House doesn't have that."

"Dr. Cuddy, I'm afraid you are mistaken. House…. _exaggerates_. John was just a strict disciplinarian. Every family has their ups and downs."

Cuddy swallowed, her heart breaking for House. His favorite phrase began to repeat and expand, Everybody lies that loves you. "I see him everyday—a man doesn't deflect, hold back, cover up his feelings because his father was merely_ strict_ with him."

Blythe closed her eyes, the slight cracks of truth falling down her face, shattering the delicate, stoic demeanor. "I think you need to leave."

"Fine. You don't have to tell me anything. But your son is in Danville, lost to me because he can't let the past go. If you love him, you'll acknowledge it. There's no way he can't let go if you're still carrying around your guilt."

Cuddy waited, but Blythe had shut down. There was nothing more she could say. Cuddy grabbed her purse and began to walk to the door.

Blythe stared blankly. She did everything, _everything_…. Everything except see it and stop it.

"Dr. Cuddy."

Cuddy reached for the door knob.

"Wait."


	9. Chapter 9

**Out With A Bang**

**By Jules**

**(9/10)**

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I think this is my favorite chapter-hopefully you like it too!**

**

* * *

**

"How the hell did you find me?"

"When you weren't at your father's house, I figured you'd find the most expensive, ostentatious place that wasn't too far away." Cuddy stepped into the hotel suite. It was so House—wasteful grandeur with a mini bar.

He followed her into the room. "You got lucky. I should be passed out in a dive bar."

"I actually went there first." Cuddy sat down on the bed, looking at him expectantly.

House shook his head and sat next to her. He took her hand, pulling it firmly against his chest. "You just _couldn't_ stay away."

"Well, at some point, we'll both get therapy and delve into my stubborn, idiotic need to be with you. " She kissed his prickly cheek. She pulled back and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Why'd you leave your dad's?"

House looked up to the ceiling and sighed. "I thought seeing him would make everything make sense. It didn't."

Cuddy frowned. "It's only been a day, House."

House got up and walked towards the mini bar. "Sometimes you don't need years to figure things out."

"What about us?" She asked quietly.

He turned around and met her eyes with a piercing gaze. She sucked in her breath. It always shocked and amazed her how he could make her feel with a single look.

He smiled sadly. "You'll always be the exception. But, Cuddy, you should know, I may never get there."

Cuddy nodded quickly. "I know."

She knew, but she didn't want to believe it. She couldn't imagine going back, digressing months and years in their relationship to wind up only as co-workers and casual friends. She stood up and walked to him. "Your mother came with me."

House did a double take. "She _what_? You went to see my mom?"

"Yeah. She wants to see you, House."

House stared at her, dumbfounded. He hadn't spoken to her in months, had never found the courage to tell her that he was in love. He didn't know why, but he knew that whatever her reaction was would be disappointing.

House turned back to the bar and began to pour himself a scotch. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Cuddy wasn't surprised by his reaction. From the way Blythe had reacted at first, virtually denying everything, she knew that House had probably received enough passivity to last him a lifetime. She put her hand on his wrist. "She wants to talk to you about everything that happened. John, your dad…."

House slammed the tumbler down on the bar. "There's _nothing_ she can say."

Cuddy shuddered, backing away at his outburst. "But you expect your father, who_ didn't even know_ of your existence, to have _all _the answers?"

House ran agitated fingers through his hair. "She didn't do anything _then_. What the _hell_ can she do _now_?"

Cuddy stepped closer to him, reaching for his trembling arms. She gripped his biceps, holding him still. "She can _acknowledge_ it. Not talking about it is just giving the abuse power over your life and hers. You shouldn't be afraid of the people you love."

"I'm not afraid of _you_," he whispered, taking her fully in his arms. He cranked his neck to bury his face against shoulder.

Tears burned against her eyelids as she felt him physically need her, shaking with dormant fear and pain. She caressed the back of his head and whispered into his ear, "Yeah, you _are_."

She pushed back, taking his face in her hands. She pressed her forehead against his.

"When you thought I was dying, you couldn't even be in the same room with me without Vicodin. _Of course_ you don't want to be in pain. You're afraid I'll hurt you the same way your father did."

House suddenly pushed back from her, his voice cracking with the pain of the last few days, months, and years, "_Haven't you_? He couldn't accept that I wasn't the son he wanted me to be. Sure, you've never_ physically_ expressed that to me, but how are his expectations _any_ different than yours?"

Cuddy felt the words rise hotly from her core as she exploded, "How can I convince you that you can trust me, love me, be with me if you continue to hold this impenetrable wall of all of the_ crap_ that's happened to you between us? No one can get passed that because you won't _deal _with it. I _hate_ what John did to you. I hate that he still has the _power_ to keep you from me, even from his _fucking_ grave." She grabbed him again, but this time, not allowing him to move, making him hear her. "I love _the man_ you are _behind it all_. I know he's there. I _know_ it. I'm asking you to face your past so you can move on—hopefully with me." She kissed him, putting every single day, month, year they had spent together, all of the things they had ever done and said, everything they had ever felt into his mouth. He responded in-kind, for no matter what he said, he was still fighting to be with her. She pulled back and ran her fingers against his face. "But even if it's not with me, I still want you to deal with it. Your mother's here. She's with your father. It's _time_. Let's go."

House opened his eyes and laughed sardonically, "You are such a stubborn bitch."

She smiled timidly. She knew she had won. She held out her hand. "I'll work on that," she gave him easily.

House took her hand. "I love you."


End file.
